Reverie
by RandomSpeedReader
Summary: John winchester reflects on the pleasures and pains of being a father to two of the most hyperactive kids known to man. Oneshot. Wee!Chester - Sam is two, Dean is six.


**DISCLAIMER: Supernatural does not belong to me. Wish it did. Sigh.**

**Thanks to RandomlyIrritated for the plot bunny, and for beta'ing the story.**

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REVERIE

John Winchester was at peace.

He sat at the table, sipping a piping hot cup of coffee, just the way he liked it. It was 5 AM, and the boys, thankfully, hadn't woken up yet. John slipped slowly, trying to make as little noise as possible, and enjoy the peace and quiet for a little while longer.

People always told him how adorable his children were, and John agreed. They definitely were adorable, when they were asleep, that is. The aforementioned people would disagree – how can these innocent little angels be any trouble? – and John would dare them to spend an hour trying to extract Dean's fingers from around Sam's ankles as he held the child upside down, and trying to unclamp Sam's jaw from Dean's other hand, which he was biting with all the force his toddler's physique could muster. At three in the morning, no less.

When the blood had gone down from Sam's head and Dean's hand had been duly cleaned and bandaged, the sniffling duo was severely reprimanded, with Dean interrupting to tell him how he had nearly lost a limb, and a teary–eyed Sam keeping up a steady stream of incoherent baby–babble.

And what about the time when they suddenly decided they were old enough to take a bath on their own? With Dean imploring "Pleeeeese daddy?" and Sam helpfully chiming in "Bathbathbathbath….", John had to give in. _So naïve,_ he thought, as he sipped more coffee.

This sudden burst of freedom resulted in John spending the morning first catching hold of his sons before they streaked the length of the neighbor's backyard, then mopping up the bathroom floor. He recalled sighing as he picked up the mangled remains of the rubber ducky who had ended up as collateral damage in the Winchester War.

And what about the time spent cutting out chewing gum from Sam's luxurious locks, after he had given in to Dean's tantrum and bought him a pack of the sticky candy?

Speaking of tantrums, if Dean was good, Sam was better than the best. His screams had, on more than one occasion, caused the neighbors to arrive at his front door to make sure John wasn't torturing the baby; and also, John admits, drove him to mutter 'christo' as he contained Sam's flailing limbs while his son tried to emulate a banshee.

Dean wasn't any less. John had already been summoned to his school on his first day. Apparently his elder son had pinned his 65-year-old math teacher on the floor of the cafeteria, straddling his hips to keep him from getting up. Yelling at everyone to keep calm and not panic, he screamed out an exorcism, one tiny fist stuffing salt into his mouth, the other pummeling his chest while the man gasped for breath. The teacher resigned the very next day and moved to the other side of the country.

To date, Dean stubbornly swears that the teacher was possessed and that he did everyone a favor.

John chuckled softly at the memory. Dean was going to be a great hunter someday.

A high pitched scream jerked him out of his reverie. He sighed, downed the rest of his coffee in one gulp and strode to his sons' room. he threw open the door in time to see his two year old launch himself at his brother's legs, as Dean held his teddy bear high above his head, away from Sam's reach.

"TEDDY!" Sam howled, before sinking his teeth into Dean's ankles. Dean dropped the bear with a surprised yelp and kicked his leg around, trying to dislodge his baby brother, who wasn't showing any sign of letting go.

John had seen enough. Reminding himself to address Sam's obvious biting problem, he scooped up the toddler in one hand, grabbing Dean's shirt in the other, and pulled them apart. Sam immediately dissolved into tears, throwing his arms around his father's neck. Dean stood there, guilt showing on his face.

Despite himself, John laughed. Dean's mouth fell open and even Sam stopped wailing.

"How 'bout we go to the zoo today? Use up all that pent up energy of yours, huh?" He thumped Dean's back.

"Wow, really, dad? COOL! We can see the seals, and the lions, and the elephants, and…"

"Zoozoozoozoozoozoo…"

John put Sam down and walked out to prepare breakfast for his sons, trying not to think of the one time he had taken them to the amusement park.

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